


Ocean Blue

by General_Button



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Breeding Kink, Courting Rituals, Eggpreg, M/M, Oviposition, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Swordfish!Shiro, Tiger Shark!Sendak, bottom!shiro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-22 05:40:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16591880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/General_Button/pseuds/General_Button
Summary: Spawning season has just begun, but with his anatomy lacking the proper tools, Shiro is under no misconceptions about finding a mate.





	Ocean Blue

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Bend Me, Break Me... But Put Me Back Together Again](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14353371) by [teicakes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/teicakes/pseuds/teicakes). 



> Please don't come into this expecting anatomically correct fish stuff. I took a few things from real marine life but most of this is made up for the kink. The fic linked as inspiration made me want to do something similar but with my favorite ship •̀.̫•́✧ Any similarities to their characters are entirely coincidentally. You should definitely read their fic series! (but pleases read the tags first!!!)

Lounging under the sun is one of Shiro’s favorite things to do.

He’s excited to be back in warmer waters, swimming in the open ocean and basking in the warm sunlight until he’s content enough to doze. He hasn’t been home in months, not since spawning season ended and the waters grew cold.

Home is the ocean waters of the Northern Pacific, a place just off the coast of where the humans congregate. It’s been harder for him to find peace and quiet during spawning season now that the humans seemed to have infected every inch of the warm waters, and considering he isn’t going to find a mate, it’s made even more difficult.

Shiro sighs, blowing a burst of bubbles up towards the surface. He’s so close—close enough that he could jump out of the water with a few beats of his tail, but he knows he can’t. Not right now.

It’s dangerous at this time of year, with both humans and predators stalking these waters. It’s dangerous all the time, but it’s harder now, when he hasn’t felt the sun on his skin like this in months. His seasonal migration came earlier than usual, and so he was forced into the cooler waters, up until he was finally able to return to where he was born and where he’s supposed to spawn.

Supposed to, being the key phrase.

Shiro tilts his head up towards the sun streaming through the water and spreads his arms, using his first dorsal fin to keep himself from flipping over. His instincts urge him to swim up to the surface and air out his fin, catch even more of that sun, but he sticks to the sand, playing games with himself. Sometimes he’ll kick up a bunch of sand and see how fast he can disperse the cloud. Other times, he’ll search for interesting objects, when he isn’t hunting for food.

He flips back over and jets towards a large sand dune, running his fingers over the top of it, gathering the sand into his palms. He jerks when he feels something brush his underbelly and twists, reaching for the loose batch of kelp clinging to his large tailfin.

Shiro scowls, tossing it to the side, and glances back up at the surface.

It’s a bad idea. There aren’t any of his kind around (he might be a few days early for spawning season, as the waters aren’t _quite_ warm just yet) and even though he can take care of himself, he doesn’t exact relish the thought of dealing with predators.

 _At least I don’t have competition to worry about,_ he muses, reaching up and feeling the warmth of the surface water on his fingers. Granted, he never has to worry about competition—not with the way he is.

With a new, determined glint in his eye, Shiro makes for the surface and then with a hard flick of his tail he breaks free, sailing into the air with an excited shout before he falls back into the water in a practiced arc. Then, because once was never going to be enough, he does it again, sailing even higher, spreading his arms and grinning at the warm sun before he plummets back into safety.

Shiro does this a few times before he’s satisfied, airing out his fin and enjoying the motion of doing what feels natural. He gets so caught up in jumping in and out of the water that he doesn’t even notice that he’s drifted pretty far from the cave that makes up his home, swimming out in even larger and deeper waters.

It’s on his twelfth jump that Shiro sees him, catching sight his colors out of the corner of his eye. He’s almost too late, landing in the water directly in front of the huge, hulking thing of a mer before he can stop himself.

Through the cluster of bubbles Shiro doesn’t recognize his type at first, what with his odd purple coloration, but once his vision clears, it doesn’t take him long to realize that he just dove right in front of a _tiger shark._

Like the rest of his body, the black of his tail is covered in purple splotches of color that spread across his front, fading into speckles white. The distinct markings of this kind of shark are well known by mer like Shiro, a species considered prey.

“Hello there,” the shark says, lips stretching into a smile that shows off his fang-like teeth, glinting in front of rows and rows more behind it. One of his eyes is mangled, permanently shut thanks to the jagged scar running across it.

“Hi,” Shiro says calmly, watching as the tiger shark starts moving, circling slowly, staring at him with a particular glint in his eye. Shiro doesn’t expect it to last long. “I didn’t realize your kind roamed these waters.”

“Humans,” he answers shortly, coming to a stop a few feet in front of Shiro. His arms are muscled, thick cords hiding the strength to tear Shiro apart with ease. “My previous spawning grounds are no longer sufficient. I have been searching for a better location. It looks I’ve found something even more interesting instead. A male carrier, all on his own, out in the open.”

Shiro scoffs, rolling his eyes at the insinuation. He’s heard that enough times to know the drill and not get his hopes up. 

Being male _and_ a carrier—or breeder—particularly that of a swordfish, means that no one will ever want him. As far as he understands, something about his anatomy doesn’t add up and he can’t produce his own eggs like the females of his kind, making him useless as a mate. And it’s not for a lack of trying. Shiro tried to get his own kind to breed him for four seasons in a row, following his instincts, before he gave up completely, giving himself over to a life devoid of any fry and a mate of his own once he realized it wasn’t possible.

He’s over it, and he’s not stupid enough to think that a fucking shark, of all things, is going to want him. He’s likely trying to lure Shiro into a false sense of security before he tries to eat him. It’s rare, but Shiro has heard of the aggressive ones doing it.

“I’m not here for you to find me interesting. I was just headed on my way home before you interrupted me.”

“Oh, I interrupted you?” he asks, sounding amused. Shiro suppresses another eyeroll and starts moving in the opposite direction, only to find himself suddenly staring at the shark’s large chest.

He’s fast—faster than Shiro expected, and he’s even bigger up close. In an instant Shiro is a dozen meters away, glaring at the shark through narrowed eyes.

“Yes,” Shiro says, “and for your information, I like being out in the open. It's kind of where I live.” It's not a complete lie. Most mer of his kind are nomads, with no home to speak of. “I'm not afraid of you.”

The shark doesn’t seem to notice or care about what he's saying, swimming back over to him, slow and steady and intimidating, sliding right up to Shiro, hands brushing his shoulders.

“You have very smooth skin,” he notes, reaching to stroke his palm down Shiro’s tail. “And such a rich color. An interruption like this is surely worth your time and mine.”

“What is your deal?” Shiro snaps, jerking away, his patience non-existent. He doesn’t like being _played_ with, not by mers like this. “Go away. Find somebody else to bother.”

“I believe you will do just fine,” the shark all but purrs, swimming in front of him to block his path again. Shiro turns around, but the shark is undeterred; he keeps to his side, brushing up against him like he’s trying to impress Shiro with his size and weight. Shiro wants to tell him that it’s meaningless, even as his body tingles, the urge to breed starting to kick in, making him want to rub his slit all over the shark until he starts fucking him full.

But no; he's just toying with him. Before long, he’ll go find a _real_ carrier.

“The season will start soon,” the shark says, as if reading his mind. He flicks his tail once, twice, coasting alongside Shiro easily even as he starts to speed up.

“What’s your name?” Shiro asks, coming to an abrupt stop.

“Sendak.” He smirks, and it’s all teeth, sharp rows that glimmer behind his fangs. “And yours, little one?”

Shiro wants to roll his eyes again. Instead, he glides over to Sendak, making his movements slow and sensual, arms reaching out to stroke slowly down Sendak’s chest.

“You wanna know?” Shiro asks, lowering his voice. “You really want to know?”

Sendak’s arms land at his waist. He brings his bulk up against Shiro, rubbing the bulge of his sheathed cock along Shiro’s belly. _“Yes.”_

For a moment, Shiro is lost in the sensation of being so close to a potential mate. He presses up against Sendak’s cock, imagining raising himself just enough so it can slip inside him and start the mating process.

Then he remembers that he’s not mate material. Sendak probably doesn’t even realize what he’s doing.

Shiro opens his mouth like he’s going to tell him his name.

Before Sendak can even move, Shiro swings his body around, thwapping Sendak with his tail. While he’s stunned from the assault, Shiro takes off into the open ocean, bubbles of laughter spilling from between his lips.

When he glances back, he finds Sendak staring at him with a look of complete bewilderment, which only makes Shiro laugh harder, clutching at his stomach while he swims.

 _Serves him right,_ he thinks, once he knows he’s safe. He’s not far from his home, thankfully. He swims for a while, and then slips through the narrow entrance to his cave near the reef, squeezing his body through, knowing that no one takes this home because most larger species can’t fit through once they’ve been bred, and because he’ll never be bred, Shiro has never has to worry about that.

He stares down at his slit and strokes his fingers along the side absently, suddenly reminded of the size of the shark’s cock. It looked like it could have covered the entire length of his stomach up to his navel and then some. Had he been his claim, Sendak would have bred Shiro, stuffing his belly full of his seed alongside their eggs, womb stretching to accommodate the size of their brood.

Sometimes, Shiro likes that he’s never been bred before. He can do what he wants; he doesn’t have to worry about raising his fry until they can safely travel on their own.

Other times, like now, he wants nothing more than to do what he was made to do. He leans back against the wall of his cave and heaves a sigh, mentally preparing himself for a season of waiting alone while the rest of his kind fuck for the next few months.

* * *

Shiro spots the shark—Sendak—just a day later. Or rather, Sendak finds Shiro.

Sometimes he forgets that sharks have a strong sense of smell. Shiro has made himself busy munching on small fish and basking his days away under the sun, staying away from where he met Sendak. He isn't sure what to do with himself otherwise, and for a while, the relative peace surrounding his home leads him to believe the danger is over.

He wakes up the next morning to Sendak swimming around the entrance to his cave with a few bluefish in his jaw, circling the area like a predator.

Shiro assumes the he’s attempting to show off or lure him out to eat him and doesn’t leave the cave until the sun’s rays start to dip, at which point Sendak finally departs, leaving his bluefish behind.

Shiro considers it a victory, and he doesn’t think too hard about the fact that there were plenty of mackerel swimming through there that day and that Sendak could have eaten any number of those. He simply eats the fish that Sendak left, taking it as his due.

Oddly enough, this pattern repeats for a few days longer. Sendak waits by his cave, attempting to goad him into open waters, probably for snacking, and Shiro will completely ignore him.

He just doesn’t understand why Sendak is sticking around him, playing with him when he could be preparing to find this season’s mate. They don’t last forever, and he’s certain Sendak could find any willing partner.

“You’re pretty persistent, you know that?” Shiro says, on the fourth morning. He swims halfway out of his cave and regards Sendak and the fish he’s brought. It’s smaller compared to the others, but still large enough to fill Shiro’s belly. “I already know you’re good at catching fish. You don’t need to prove yourself.”

“I am not proving anything,” Sendak says. He tosses the fish in Shiro’s direction, watching it glide through the water until Shiro snatches it, shooting it and then Sendak a puzzled glance. “We must fatten you up. You’re far too thin as you are, not if you want to handle my brood.”

Shiro stares at the fish, and then at Sendak.

“Um,” is all he manages. Sendak’s eyes narrow.

“Your name. I have asked every day since I started courting you, and you have not given me an answer.”

Shiro holds up a hand and says, calmly, “Hold on.”

Sendak? A shark? Courting?

When the realization hits him, Shiro holds the fish against his chest like a shield.

Sendak is courting him?!

“Courting?” Shiro squeaks, much less calmly. “You’re courting _me?”_  

Shiro has never been courted. He was always the one attempting to court females even though after he realized he had the wrong parts, and then when he tried to court the males, with the inability to create his own eggs, it never went well. He doesn’t know the first thing about courting someone successfully.

“That’s what you’ve been doing? You’ve been courting me with…with food?”

Sendak swims up to him, and Shiro, too shocked to move, simply lets him press his bulk along Shiro’s side. His skin is rough and textured, but the pressure is welcome.

“Normally I would simply mate you, but I want you padded with plenty of fat. My eggs are large.”

At the mention of Sendak’s eggs, Shiro feels himself go still, his insides fluttering, clenching around nothing. He’s been empty since he was able to bear young. He doesn’t know what it feels like, but he wants it, more than he wants anything.

Granted, he still doesn’t understand how they went from being enemies to Shiro being courted by him. Unless—

“Wait, when we met—you were _actually_ interested in me?”

While still fond, Sendak gives him a look that implies exactly what he thinks of Shiro's oblivious nature.

“You are—” he begins, before Shiro cuts him off.

“I’ve never been mated,” he blurts. Sendak’s eyes widen, his gills flaring with his sudden inhale. “I’m not—I’m not a female. I’m a male. And my name is Shiro.”

“I am aware _,_ ” Sendak says. He eyes Shiro appreciatively, stroking his large hands down his fin. Shiro shivers, hands grasping at the nearby rockface to hold himself steady. This happens every season—it feels like his insides are molten, hot and tingling, waiting to be filled, but no one will do it. No one wants him.

“So, Shiro, you have truly never been mated?”

“I—no.” Shiro leans against him seemingly not of his own will, the musky scent of a large male shark and its promise of both danger and a mate incredibly tempting. “Never. I can’t produce my own eggs, so I’m not any use.”

“A shame, truly. A male breeder—I have never seen such a thing outside of seahorses. It makes you all the more interesting. Your species is attractive. I like your coloring.”

Sendak’s teeth brush his shoulder. His hands have gravitated to his waist and he hold him there while he nibbles on his skin. Not enough to break it, but enough that it’s a threat. Shiro places his hands over Sendak’s, swaying into him, feeling the world go out of focus, zeroing in on the point of contact between them.

“You actually want to—” He pauses for a beat, bubbles slipping past his lips. He feels like he needs to go up for a breath of air from the surface. “You want to breed with me even knowing that?”

“I am going to breed you,” Sendak says. He smirks, gills expanding as he inhales lungfuls of water, puffing out his chest. “There is no doubt about that.”

Shiro frowns, his eagerness starting to fade once he notices the discrepancies between what he has said and what Sendak is saying.

“Is that right?” Shiro breaks free of his hold and propels himself away. Sendak moves to follow, but Shiro is quick, slipping through the cracks in his cave, turning to smile at Sendak. “You’re very confident about that. How many breeders has that worked on?”

Sendak bares his teeth, reaching through the crack in a futile effort. If he banged at it hard enough it would probably crumble, but Sendak doesn’t know that.

“I told you that I don’t make my own eggs. So whatever game you’re playing, it’s not going to work.” Shiro crosses his arms in front of him, swinging his tail to send a useless current of water in Sendak’s direction.

“I told you that I am _aware,”_   Sendak says slowly, seemingly frustrated with Shiro’s lack of reciprocation. “What are you not understanding? I have my eggs that I will insert inside of your womb where they will rest until they hatch.”

At that, Shiro pauses. “Wait, you meant that _you_ have eggs? As in your own?”

“Correct,” Sendak grits out, still reaching for Shiro.

Sendak’s response is unexpected. Shiro had assumed that their species would be similar. Knowing now that Sendak intends to insert something foreign inside of Shiro—where he’d never had anything before, right into the empty space that has been begging for him to fill it season after season—is far more tempting than Shiro expects it should be.

He strokes his fingers along his slit, trying to imagine Sendak passing an egg through. He said they were large. Shiro doesn’t know what that feels like, and he finds that he suddenly wants to know.

Before he’s even become aware of it, Shiro has drifted to the entrance to his home, close enough that Sendak takes his hand and draws him out into the open, stroking his arm soothingly, like he’s afraid Shiro will bolt any second.

“You’ll…put them in me?” Shiro asks. He doesn’t intend to sound so breathless. It’s just—he’s never known what it’s like, and it’s always been a point of fascination for him. The urge to breed is what originally drove him here, and it’s never been sated. He has never been sated, and he _wants_ to feel what he imagines everyone else must feel.

“Right here,” Sendak says, his voice silky smooth. He lays his palm over Shiro’s belly, inching it down towards his slit. Shiro jerks away when he gets close, and Sendak smirks like he expected it.

“How many can you house?” he asks, circling Shiro once again. Shiro knows he should feel intimidated, but his own curiosity and need are overriding his sense of propriety and danger.

“I—I’m not sure,” he answers, turning to follow Sendak’s slow path around him. “Thousands. Millions, at least. Most of them don’t survive.”

Sendak hums, sending a wave of bubbles bursting forth. “Fascinating.”

“What about you?” Shiro glances at his sheathed cock, wondering once again where he’s storing the eggs he’s supposedly carrying. Perhaps in his tail, which is twice the size of his body, waving slowly back and forth in the water while he moves.

“A few dozen.”

Shiro can’t help but gape. Sendak said it so casually, but a few dozen, that’s—

How big _are_ they?

“Don’t fret. You will carry them well.” Sendak swims up to him and crowds him into the sand, brushing up along his side. “Such a delightful creature you are. My pups will grow well within your womb.”

Shiro swallows, hands gravitating towards his flat stomach. He has an empty space there— _a womb,_ his mind supplies—where his eggs would go if he could produce them. Sendak’s hands go to cover his, and Shiro leans into his touch without protest.

“So, courting.” Shiro raises an eyebrow. “Is it just bringing me food? Because if so, I’ve gotta say I’m not impressed.”

* * *

Over the next few days, despite Shiro’s teasing, Sendak brings him more food than he could ever need.

He explained to Shiro that he would need fattening up, but more than that, he seems eager to prove his worth through means of bringing him an endless supply of fish. There are parts of Shiro that find this flattering, but he’s also confused. From what he knows of sharks, they don’t wait long to mate. Mating season is arguably short, and for days Sendak does nothing but bring Shiro food over and over, occasionally sprinkling in things he thinks Shiro might enjoy, like figures that the humans have dropped, or on one occasion, an oddly shaped rock.

“It looks like you,” Sendak states proudly upon handing it to Shiro.

It does look like him…sort of. Shiro thanks him for it, and then Sendak leaves with the intention of finding him more food. Shiro is already stuffed full, and when looks at the pile of fish seated in his cave, he wonders how many predators Sendak is attempting to attract by doing this.

Things continue like that for a while. Sendak will feed him, and watch over him, but even as the waters get warmer and warmer, and the sea fills with fish and mer of all kinds, he doesn’t try to mate him.

After a week, Shiro starts to suspect that Sendak really is trying to fatten him up just to eat him. He hasn’t tried to mate him, has barely touched him at all, and now, when most of the fish around them are already carrying their fertilized fry, Shiro is alone.

Sendak disappeared a day ago.

He told Shiro he might be gone for longer than expected, but he didn’t imagine him being gone for as long as he has been. The morning of his disappearance, Shiro sits inside his cave for most of it, waiting for Sendak to show up. He’s nervous, for reasons he can’t quite explain, but when the allure of the warm afternoon sun and gentle waters is too hard to resist, he leaves his home and starts sailing through the surface waves and basks with the other fish, chatting with them when the mood strikes.

“You are carrying for a tiger shark?” One woman asks. She’s an octopus, having come up from somewhere in the nearby reef to check out the warm surface currents like the rest of them. Her silver hair floats around her elegantly, framing her dark skin and bright eyes glimmering with intelligence. “I’ve never heard of a male swordfish carrying for a shark. Are you certain he’s not going to eat you?”

“I’m certain,” Shiro says, uncertainly.

“Where is he?” she asks. She swims up into his face, blinks her wide, inquisitive eyes at him. Her many tentacles begin to curl and writhe around his tail, and she grabs onto his arm, tugging on it. “Is he here? Let me see if he’s really a tiger shark like you say.”

“He’s…not here. He went out to do something. He hasn’t been back all day.”

Shiro tries not to sound dejected. From the look on the mer’s face, he hasn’t exactly succeeded.

“Oh,” she says, settling back. Her hair swirls as she turns her head, brushing her cheeks. “Well, I hope he does not eat you. You seem nice. What’s your name?”

“Shiro.” He smiles at her, and she returns it.

“I’m Allura. It was nice meeting you, Shiro.” Allura cocks her head. “I would love to speak more, but my mate is waiting for me. I've taken long enough already, so I must bid you goodbye, unfortunately.”

“All right. Nice to meet you. Bye, Allura!”

She waves at him before diving back down towards the reef, colors already changing to match her surroundings.

Aside from Allura and a few others, Shiro spends the rest of the day alone.

Being alone doesn’t bother him. He’s used to being alone, and a few weeks with an overbearing shark isn’t going to change that, no matter much he’s enjoyed it.

Shiro refuses to acknowledge that he might be at all lonely, and keeps jumping in and out of the water, airing out his fin and simply having a good time, even when the sun starts to dip, chilling the waters enough to warn him that nightfall is coming.

Shiro is digging through the sand, looking for a shiny object that he spied when he feels arms encircle his waist. He yelps and struggles, but after a moment he feels a mouth attach to his throat and stills.

“I have missed you, little one.”

“Sendak,” Shiro breathes. “Oh, you _scared_ me.” He whirls around then, facing Sendak with a glare. “Where have you been? You said you’d be gone for just a while.”

The words are spoken before he can stop himself. He bites his lip, feeling foolish for sounding so _needy,_ but Sendak looks duly contrite, rubbing up against him and nibbling on Shiro with his many sharp teeth, gestures Shiro has realized are his way of showing affection.

“Preparations took longer than expected, but our home is now ready for you.”

“Home?” Shiro blinks at him. “What do you mean, home? I have a home.”

Sendak scoffs. “Do you expect to birth my pups in such a pathetic place?”

“Hey! It’s not pathetic. It’s—home,” Shiro says, lamely.

“But it is not _our_ home,” Sendak insists. He points to his left, somewhere off in the distance. “You will need room, and it will be much safer there down by the reef. You will have neighbors.”

It sounds nice in theory, but Shiro is still irritated that Sendak called his home pathetic. He pouts.

“I like where I live,” he says stubbornly. “It’s not pathetic. How do I know you’re not trying to eat me, huh? Are the neighbors other sharks?”

“Don’t be preposterous. I would never let another shark near you.”

Sendak exposes his front row of teeth. Shiro thinks he should be afraid, and finds that he’s only pleasantly surprised.

“Okay,” he says, after a long pause. “fine. I’ll go take a look. Just _one_ look, though. I’m not promising that I’ll live there. Understood?”

* * *

When Sendak declares that the entire ship is his, Shiro laughs outright. It isn’t until Sendak gazes at him, unperturbed, that Shiro realizes he’s not kidding.

“Wait, you’re actually serious? But this place is huge!”

About two-thirds of the ship is buried underneath the sand, but the half that isn’t buried contains the cabins where the humans would presumably live. It’s covered in algae and barnacles, but it’s spacious, and there’s are remnants from the humans that once lived there.

To say Shiro is impressed is putting it lightly.

“How did you _find_ this place? There must have been a thousand others lining up to stay here.”

“There were interlopers looking to secure this place as their own, but I convinced them that it would be wise to find another place more suitable.” Sendak’s smile is, well, shark-like. “This is our home now.”

Shiro looks at him and then, without another word, he takes off, swimming around the wreck, exploring every nook and cranny. It’s just a few rooms and a partially broken deck, but when he considers how he’s supposed to call this place a home, his perspective changes. There’s more than enough room for the two of them and then some.

Their children. Their fry.

“You are pleased.”

Sendak swims up beside him, fluid in his approach. Shiro barely notices what with how intensely he’s staring at the giant square in the center of the room, draped in coverings have been eaten away over time.

“I’m…amazed. I didn’t know this was what you meant. You really—you’re not going to eat me?”

Sendak cocks his head. “Do you honestly think that?”

“No,” Shiro answers. “No, but I—I don’t know. You haven’t bred me, and mating season is halfway over. I guess I wasn’t sure what you were waiting for.” He pauses for a beat. “Now I think I understand.”

“Good.” Sendak bumps into him, wrapping an arm around his waist. “You are willing to stay here, then?”

Shiro crosses his arms and looks around, pretending like he’s contemplating it. A place like this—it’s like he’s in a dream. Of _course_ he wants to stay.

“It’ll do,” he says, smiling.  

* * *

They move Shiro’s meager supply of things into their new home. He doesn’t have much—just a few knick-knacks that he’s collected—but it is a welcome dose of familiarity in a place that is so strange and new. Sendak spends the next few days showing him the area, telling what is safe and what isn’t, ignoring the number of times that Shiro points out he a fully-fledged adult mer capable of taking care of himself.  

One of the neighbors that Shiro mentioned is Allura, the beautiful octopus with a mate that’s a shorter dolphin named Pidge, an odd-looking contraption on her face.

“What are those?” Shiro asks, upon meeting. He reaches out to touch it, but the woman jerks away, frowning at him.

“They’re my glasses,” she says. “Obviously.”

“Oh. Right.” Shiro smiles. He had no clue what ‘glasses’ are, but this seems to satisfy Pidge, who nods at him shortly before claiming she’s going to go find them some food.

“You aren't a carrier, are you?”

“Oh, no,” Allura says, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “No offense, of course, but my eggs live on the outside. Your kind are much more…” Her eyes stray to his belly. “Suited to it, I’m sure. Which begs the question: when will I see your mate? You’ve moved in and I have still yet to see hide nor tail of him.”

“I swear he exists!” Shiro says, laughing brightly. He's happy to find an opportunity to talk about Sendak with another person. “He was the one who found our home. I’m surprised you guys didn’t try to move into the ship before us.”

“I prefer caves,” Allura explains. “That is too close to the surface for my tastes.”

Shiro glances towards the surface, miles above them, but decides asking isn’t worth it.

“Well I’m glad. I’ve never had neighbors before,” he admits sheepishly.

Allura smiles, brushing a few errant locks away from her cheeks.

“Pidge prefers solitude, but I must say I don’t mind that you’ll be around. You’ll have to show me your collection sometime.”

“I’d like that.”

* * *

Eventually they settle into a similar routine to the one before. Shiro eats and rests and waits for Sendak to want to breed him, and Sendak doesn’t breed him.

As the sea warms and Shiro waits, the urge to mate comes hot, leaving him aching most nights, sleeping restless at Sendak’s side. He doesn’t understand why he’s waiting, not when Shiro feels more than ready. He pushes and pushes, but Sendak tells him to wait, to be _patient._

Not even a day later, though, Shiro wakes up that morning aching and longing so fiercely that he nearly tries to spear himself on Sendak’s sheathed cock, rubbing up against his side until he is brought into wakefulness.

“You are eager this morning,” Sendak observes curiously. “One more day, Shiro, just one more day.”

“But—” Shiro whines, pressing up against him. He’s so _empty._ “Please, Sendak. I’ve been waiting! The season’s going to over before you ever breed me. Please. Why are we waiting so long?”

He paws at his chest and glances down, and that’s when he notices that Sendak’s cock is unsheathed, prodding Shiro at his side.

“I know you want it. Don’t you want to put your eggs in me?” He lowers his voice, stroking Sendak’s arm as he starts to rise. “I want to carry your pups. I can fit them all, I _know_ I can.”

Bubbles burst from between Sendak’s lips. He draws Shiro to his side, flipping them so that he’s pressing Shiro into the floor.

“I was waiting so that my eggs would be fully grown and large enough, but I suppose a day will not hurt.”

He leans back, and then something bizarre happens. His thick cock splits, and Shiro realizes with a start that it’s never been just one. 

“Oh,” Shiro says. He’s shivering, but he’s not sure why. “Oh. You have two.”

“Yes,” Sendak purrs. He smiles, all teeth, and with a flick of his tail he pulls Shiro over to the soft bedding they’ve put together for Shiro—his future nesting spot, should he want to rest—and starts rutting against him.

He doesn’t push in immediately. He rubs his cocks along Shiro’s slit for a while, letting Shiro grow used to the sensation. It’s—strange. Shiro has never felt anything like it. It’s all tingling sensation, and at first he tries to pull away, but Sendak holds him there by his arms, rutting harder and deeper, until one of his cocks slips past his slit, burying itself inside him.

“Oh,” Shiro breathes, trembling hands moving to pry at Sendak’s iron grip. “Oh, that feels so strange. I don’t know—”

“Don’t worry, Shiro. It can’t hurt you.” He continues to rut, slowly pulling in and out, dragging his cock through the entrance to Shiro’s slit. “You were made for this. You were made to be bred by me.”

Shiro bites down on his lip as he starts burying it deeper, the sensation even sharper now, cutting through him. Sendak’s so thick and Shiro feels so _full._

“It feels so—I don’t know. I don’t know, Sendak.”

Sendak adjusts his grip while he’s speaking, freeing one hand to angle his other cock so it slips in with the other.

Shiro whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut. It doesn’t hurt, in fact, it’s the opposite. It feels _good._ A sound he doesn’t recognize comes out of his mouth as Sendak rocks into him, driving his cocks to the hilt. He’s abandoned holding onto Shiro’s arms, now gripping his hips to keep him in place as each thrust pushes Shiro back against his bedding,

“Oh, oh, _oh,_ ” Shiro cries, hips shifting as Sendak changes the angle. It’s different now. He’s reaching deeper, further inside him. Shiro grabs Sendak by his biceps and squirms, a soft litany of _oh’s_ escaping from his lips.

Eyes closed, Shiro is completely focused on the sensation of Sendak’s cocks pushing inside him, and he doesn’t even notice the intrusion until suddenly the folds of his slit are being forced apart by something so much bigger.

“Sendak, that feels—oh gods.” He breathes out bubbles in an unsteady rush, rocking his hips into Sendak’s steadfast thrusts. “What _is_ that?”

“My egg.” Sendak stops fucking him and goes back to a gentle rocking motion, slotting their hips so his cocks are buried as deeply inside Shiro as possible.

“Your egg,” Shiro repeats. It feels so thick inside him, painfully so. As it slowly travels the length of Sendak’s cock, it seems to get bigger and bigger. It feels like it’s splitting him open. Tears spring in his eyes as the pain and pleasure crest, his mouth agape, until suddenly the pressure is released, bringing forth a wave of relief and contentment and pleasure so sweet he keens.

Shiro knows the instant the egg has found its place inside him. His muscles contract around it and draw it upwards, settled somewhere in his lower abdomen. He glances down, shocked to see the slightest distention of his skin.

“Look at that.” Sendak touches the place where his egg is laying, his eye dark. “You’ve taken it, just like that. A few dozen more, and you’ll be full of my brood.” He looks up at Shiro’s face. “How do you feel?”

“Good, I think. It’s…it’s intense, I’m not going to lie.” He lets out a breath, then meets Sendak’s gaze. “But I want it.”

There’s a satisfied rumble from Sendak. Shiro can feel another egg rising from the base of his cock, and this time Sendak moves through it, pistoning his cock in and out of Shiro in repeated, fluid motions. It feels so foreign and unpleasant at first, but then it starts to transform. When the egg presses up near the entrance to his womb, he experiences a sort of euphoria, pleasure rocketing up Shiro’s spine. He moans at final next pass of Sendak’s cocks, fingernails digging indents into Sendak’s shoulder.

“I didn’t know it would feel like this,” Shiro gasps, as the third egg is passed through. His stomach is starting to bulge slightly as more eggs are pushed inside. Each one seems bigger than the next, stretching him past the point of comfort, but the pleasure that results is amazing.

He drowns in it, losing all sense time and awareness as Sendak thrusts his cocks into his body, inserting egg after egg inside him womb.

“Such a lovely mate,” Sendak mutters, stroking the side of his face. He pulls out and then buries his cock deep, drawing a sharp cry out of Shiro as his limbs lock up, his slit fluttering and pulsing around him intermittently. “I believe you can take them all. Just _look_ at you.”

When Shiro comes down from the high, he slumps back against the bedding, watching with half-lidded eyes as Sendak pulls back, releasing a cloud of fluid into the water. He touches the swell of his stomach, moaning when Sendak starts to push back inside.

“How—how many more?” he rasps. He feels so full it’s making him nauseous. “I don’t know if I can…”

“You will,” Sendak assures him. He starts pushing another egg through, and this time, it’s big. Bigger than any of the other eggs—the biggest so far. Shiro’s head snaps back as it’s pushed through his body. He’s suddenly glad that he’s feeling so loose-limbed after his previous release, because everything threatens to go tight as it enters his passage.

The other eggs didn’t hurt. His body twinged with pin-pricks of pain, but this time, Shiro feels the pain reverberate through his body. He twitches, hands snapping to Sendak’s shoulders, trying to push him away.

“Sendak, please, that—that _hurts,"_   he cries, tears springing in his eyes. Sendak leans up to nuzzle the side of his face.

“I know,” he says. “I'm sorry, Shiro, but it will be over soon. The egg is already being transferred. We cannot stop now. You can take it.”

Shiro bumps their cheeks together, breathing through the pressure on his pelvis. Sendak isn't moving anymore, despite his words, and Shiro is glad for the consideration.

"Okay," he says unsteadily. "Keep going."

Sendak stills for a while longer, letting Shiro adjust, but there’s not much to be done about it. Sendak’s right. Even so, the egg feels like a boulder is being shoved inside him. There’s pleasure, sure, but it’s mostly pain. The egg is just too big. Shiro braces his hands on his round stomach, running his hands repeatedly over the skin while Sendak whispers praise, hips rolling in a slow, seemingly never-ending grind.

Shiro screams when the egg is finally drawn up inside his womb. It’s part pain, part intense, all-encompassing pleasure and his vision blurs, insides fluttering weakly around Sendak’s cock. He hears Sendak grunt, and then feels him pulse, faintly recalling Sendak telling him he would coat the eggs in his seed once they were inside him.

The last few eggs are easy in comparison; a pleasant pressure that waxes and wanes in turn. Shiro moans each time an egg finds space in his womb where it feels like there is none, and Sendak keeps breeding him, coating his insides with his seed until clouds of it are bursting from Shiro’s slit.

“I think that is all of them,” Sendak says, withdrawing after a moment. He cups Shiro’s cheek, looking indescribably fond. “You did so well, Shiro.”

Shiro collapses against his bedding, curling his arms around his stomach. He can see the outline of his eggs bulging outward, but he knows that in a few days they will adjust their placement and smooth out, looking much less ungainly from the outside.

“Thanks,” he mutters tiredly, lips quirking into a smile. “Feels so—full. Don’t wanna move.”

“That will pass.” Sendak slides up behind him, pressing his bulk into Shiro. He wraps his arms around Shiro’s waist, careful of the eggs distending his abdomen. “How do you feel otherwise?”

“Honestly? Other than that big egg, I feel good. I feel…like I’m fulfilling a purpose.” He leans back into Sendak’s embrace. “I’ve never felt anything like that before. Is breeding always like that?”

“For some. Not all take pleasure in it, I’m sure.” He strokes his hand down Shiro’s tail slowly, soothing him. “You are a rare exception. Watching you was pleasure in itself.”

“You’re just teasing me,” Shiro mutters. It was a successful mating, and now he’s exhausted and nauseous. His belly is so big now that he just wants to sleep while his eggs settle.

Sensing this, Sendak says nothing more, and after a while he nuzzles Shiro's cheek and then leaves him dozing in his nest, likely headed to circle around the perimeter for predators.

With a mate like Sendak around, Shiro isn’t too worried.  


End file.
